Best of Friends
by This Little Lady
Summary: COMPLETE! Some say that you can't fall in love with your best friend, but Rachel fell hard for her best friend Finn Hudson, but does he feel the same way? This is an A/U Finchel fic.
1. Chapter 1

This is my first Glee fic with a Rachel/Finn/Quinn love triangle. Although I am a Finchel shipper, this story starts off with Finn and Quinn being together. And by the way, this may be cactegorized as Glee, but this story is A/U and does not follow the storyline in the series because here Rachel and Puck are siblings - which is crucial to this storyline. I hope you all like it and enjoy reading it as much as I did. And do not hesitate on leaving me reviews/comments/opinions at the end.

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

***Rachel's POV***

Okay, so it wasn't like I was desperate — yet. I mean, there had certainly been other times when I had ended a relationship just weeks before some major social event. On the other hand, New Year's Eve was not just _any_ social event. It was _the_ event — at least for the month of January. And Lima, Ohio is not really overflowing with single great–looking men. I wasn't worried — yet. Always one to take control where I could and leave the rest to God, I decided to go shopping.

I had gifts covered for family and friends, but there were parties and events associated with the season that demanded at the least a new pair of shoes, and at the most a dynamite jacket to freshen up one of my signature little black dresses. And that didn't even begin to address an outfit for New Year's Eve.

Mid–December in Ohio can be either spectacularly sunny, even balmy, or it can be bone–chilling and damp with a low cover of clouds that seems destined to collapse under its own weight. Monday was of the bone–chilling variety, and damp had turned into actual drizzle. I often volunteer at my church, not only because I've been a member there since birth but also because my best friend, Quinn Fabray, is the director of adult programming. In my actual life — career wise — I am an aspiring actress and a freelance party/wedding/event planner.

I pull on my butternut leather jacket and newsboy cap and head down the hall to Quinn's office to let her know I'm off to the mall. Not that this is a destination that interests her in the slightest — usually.

"The mall?" she says and reaches for her coat. "Great. I'll come with you." Quinn cinches her trench–coat belt and pulls on a really hideous knit beret.

Quinn and I know each other very well. We've been friends so long that we are closer than most sisters I know. We can finish each other's sentences and we always know when the other one is happy, sad, mad or holding something back. This — as you will see — will come in to play later, but I digress.

"You don't do malls," I remind her.

"Only when forced," she agrees as she stuffs various papers and other items into the leather suitcase that she truly believes is a perfectly acceptable purse.

"Oh," I reply — a light dawning. "Of course, you also need something spectacular for New Year's Eve, _in case._" Things are looking up. I am always more than willing to play personal shopper for Quinn when it comes to clothes, which is quite a surprise for most of our friends since I didn't really have a good fashion sense back in high school. But people change, and that includes fashion don't you think? And it seemed like Quinn now lacked the fashion sense she had when we were younger. Maybe it's because she's always too busy with work and all the community programs she goes to.

Quinn is pulling on gloves that match the hat. I try not to shudder. "No," she says, laughing. "It's Finn. I have no idea what to get him and time is running out and…well, I've completely drawn a blank and you've known him longer than I have."

This is true. Finn Hudson, Quinn and I have been friends since Finn and his family moved in across the street from me when I was in elementary. Within a month, Finn was like another member of our family — always in and out of the house or sprawled in one of the club chairs in our family room watching sports with my dads and older brother. He took Quinn to our junior prom — at my suggestion. And they both dated in senior year and went to the same university.

But ever since Finn graduated and returned to Lima ready to change the world, he and Quinn have been seeing each other. I was seeing Jesse St. James at the time and it was natural that Finn and Quinn would double with us. Then — long after Jesse was history — Quinn and Finn stayed together while I moved on — and on and on.

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><p><strong>Please REVIEW and tell me what you guys think! :)<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you for the story alerts, and even though I didn't get a lot of reviews, I'm still glad that some of you read this story. Anyways, this chapter is longer than the previous ones and I hope you enjoy them. I'm working on another Finchel fic but I don't have a clear storyline for it yet, so stay tuned. The next chapter will be up Friday :)

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

"Okay, let's attack this logically," I say and Quinn laughs again. She does not need to explain that the very idea of my attacking anything via logic is ridiculous. "I'm serious. What did you get him last year?"

"That incredible sweater you helped me find. He loves it — wears it all the time. And the year before that it was the desk set for his new office after he made partner. And before —"

"How about something for his bike?" Over the past summer Finn had become an avid biker and so Quinn and I had gotten into the sport, as well. With Quinn often tied up with church programming events on the weekends, Finn and I would frequently go without her. Riding a bike, I had discovered, was a fairly benign form of working out that did not necessarily involve sweating, and it was a great way to meet guys. "How about biking gloves?" I suggest.

Quinn makes a face. "I tried that for his birthday, remember? I paid a fortune for gloves only to find out they were for mountain biking."

I throw out a number of other suggestions — all of which Quinn rejects —as the train speeds us to the mall and we emerge into the lights, sounds and smells that declare, "You have arrived in Shopper Heaven!"

Quinn lets out a sigh that announces she's ready to give up before we start. "So many stores," I say, taking her arm and pulling her into the throngs of holiday shoppers.

"So few ideas," she replies as I lead her to the nearest boutique for men. "Hey, thanks for coming in to help out today," she says. Quinn is always one to bring things back to the positive.

I had stopped by the church to help Quinn and her assistant get out a mailing about the next session of the popular matchmaking program Quinn had pretty much invented. Like there aren't a gazillion other dating games or match programs around, but this one is honestly different. Quinn came up with the idea of limiting it to people ready for a serious commitment in a faith–based relationship. I have to say that when she first came up with the idea, I thought she was nuts, but refrained from saying so directly.

"Interesting," was my comment.

"You think it's doomed," she replied, "but that's okay."

Another huge sigh from Quinn brings me back to the task at hand. "This is hopeless," she says as we leave store number three. "I'm going home. Maybe inspiration will strike in the night."

We are standing across from the bookstore and I realize that inspiration is just inside those doors.

"Poetry," I say.

"Poetry?" Quinn repeats. "For Finn?"

"There's a special new leather–bound edition that would be perfect." I know this because it is what _I_ had intended to give Finn, but hey, what are friends for?

I can see that Quinn is trying hard to get her brain around the words _poetry_ and _Finn_ in the same sentence.

"Or not," I say and shrug. "It's just something he mentioned in passing. We were biking last month and I said something about the scenery and he quoted something from a poet who's name I cannot remember. I called him on it, and he admitted that he'd had a thing for the poet's work since college."

Quinn hugs me. "You know, in some ways you know Finn way better than I do. Let's go." She leads the way to the bookstore.

I am happy to follow, knowing the sooner we take care of Finn's gift, the sooner I can focus on my own shopping. But for some reason, I feel an odd sense of disappointment. I shake it off, reminding myself that handing over the gift idea to Quinn is exactly why we are such good friends. Either of us would gladly give up the shirt on our back (or in this case, the perfect gift idea) if it would help the other one.

After all, Finn and I usually don't exchange gifts. I had thought of giving him the book to thank him for fixing three flat tires for me. Then there was the day he rescued me when my tire got stuck in the tracks of a railroad crossing and I came close to catapulting over the handlebars. The three of us still laugh about that one on a regular basis, although Finn always brings us back to reality by saying, "Thank heavens, we can laugh about it. Rachel could have been seriously injured." Through biking, Finn and I have definitely moved to a new level of friendship.

So, that's why I had considered breaking the unwritten rules and getting him something. Of course, I wasn't going to get gushy about it. I planned to casually hand him the gift — perhaps on Christmas Eve when the three of us always pull an all–nighter after midnight services. We spend the night talking and eating and making plans for the coming year.

"Just a little something to thank you for being my biking buddy," I planned to say. _Buddies._ Right? Right. That was an accurate description of our relationship. Buddies kept things in the proper perspective.

"I'm sorry," the clerk tells Quinn. "I'm afraid we're all sold out of that edition. We have it in paperback."

"Not the same thing," I reply, disappointed on a whole new level. After all, even if Quinn is giving the gift, the important thing is for Finn to have the special edition.

"Thank you," Quinn tells the clerk. "We'll find something," she reassures me and links her arm through mine as we exit the store.

It's not unusual for us to walk along like this, arm in arm, heads bent close in a serious discussion of the world and its woes — or more likely our immediate world and personal woes. Today I realize that this physical connection is exactly what I need — a reminder of all that we are to each other. Somehow in the bookstore and even before, that connection seemed in jeopardy.

"I've got it," I say, triumphant at the simplicity of the solution. "You can order it online."

I see by Quinn's expression that I have made her day and that is gift enough for anyone. "So, let's go do some real shopping," I say and pull her along as I enter the first available boutique and walk straight into Finn.

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><p><strong>AN: So Finn will finally appear on the next chapter. Please review! TY!**


	3. Chapter 3

Thought I'd upload another chapter before the weekend starts. I'm so thankful for the people who put this story on alert and on their favorite list. I really appreciate that. And if anyone is confused with the pairing, you can post your opinions and questions in the review section at the bottom of this page and I will do my best to answer them. Okay, here's chapter three!

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><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

Finn quickly shoves a small package into his coat pocket as he leans in to kiss each of us on the cheek. "I thought you had meetings all afternoon," he says to Quinn.

"I finished early and Rachel said she was coming to the mall so I thought I would tag along."

Finn looks at me for confirmation. "I know it's a stretch for Quinn here to intentionally make an appearance at a shopping mall, but it is the holiday season," I remind him.

Finn grins. "So what did you ladies get me?"

"You first," I say. "What's that you just hid in your pocket?"

Finn actually blushes and my heart sinks. This is it. This is The Ring. He's going to propose to her and make it all official this Christmas Eve. I should be happy, but making things official will change things. Besides, I'm not at all sure that Quinn is on the marriage track in terms of her relationship with Finn. Quinn and I both believe in holding out for _the _day — the drum roll. On the other hand, Quinn isn't working very hard at seeing anyone else so maybe she's thinking Finn is The One after all.

To my shock he actually pulls the small box from his pocket.

_Not here!_ My mind is yelling the thought hoping to penetrate whatever fog makes him think handing Quinn an engagement ring in the middle of a busy mall is a good idea. _Men._

To my further shock, he hands the box to me. "It's just something I saw and thought you might like," he says.

Quinn is watching this exchange with interest. Other than being aware of my best friend watching me accept a gift from her boyfriend, I am totally unaware of anything or anyone else except Finn.

"Open it," Quinn urges without even a hint of the jealousy I would be feeling if the man in my life — if there were a man in my life — were to hand Quinn a gift–wrapped box. I would be thinking, _What am I? Chopped liver?_ But Quinn is the picture of enthusiasm.

"No," Finn says and covers my hand — the one holding the box — with his. "Put it under the tree for Christmas Eve. I mean, it's nothing, but I just thought it looked like something you might like." He releases my hand and turns his full attention to Quinn. "So, does this mean you two are free for dinner?"

I am still staring at my hand. Not the box in my hand. My actual hand — the part he covered with his larger one — the part still throbbing with warmth. I am stunned to realize that I am not thinking buddy–type thoughts. Clearly I am in need of a new relationship if the touch of Finn's hand can send my heart racing.

Quinn reaches over and takes the box from me. "First things first — we both know Rachel," she tells Finn, "and there is no way she will be able to resist opening this. Remember this is the same woman who used to discover every hiding place her parents found for gifts and know not only what she was getting, but what her brother was getting, as well. Puck hated it because it killed the surprise for him."

"I was ten," I protest.

"You were fourteen when you told me two days before Christmas that Santa was bringing you your own phone and your brother a new video game," Quinn reminds me.

"She's got you there Rach," Finn says.

"Well, I am almost twenty-five and one would hope a bit more mature," I retort, taking back the gift–wrapped box, but unable to resist shaking it close to my ear before dropping it in my copper–beaded slouch purse.

Quinn and Finn both laugh. "So, dinner? I have some more shopping to do so we could meet." He pushes back the sleeve of his suit to check his watch. "At six?"

"You two go ahead," Quinn says. "I promised Mom and Dad that I would meet them for dinner. They're entertaining some visitors from home."

I glance at Finn and wonder why I am suddenly shy at the idea of sitting down to a meal in a shopping mall food court with the man. "You don't have to —" I begin only to hear him chorusing the same words as he looks at me.

"You both have to eat," Quinn says logically.

Finn lifts an eyebrow and grins.

"Sure," I say.

"Ah, such enthusiasm," Finn replies. "Obviously, I've still got what it takes to sweep the ladies off their feet."

Quinn laughs, but I find myself thinking, _You sure do._

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><p>The three of us go our separate ways, and as I wander through one boutique after another, I find myself trying to make sense of what just happened.<p>

Point one: I thought Finn had bought an engagement ring for Quinn and I felt not joy but something closer to panic. Why? Well, obviously because I was pretty sure that Quinn still looked on her relationship with Finn as comfortable and secure — a kind of haven. Sort of the way Finn kind of fell into hanging out at my parents' house and watching sports with my dad and brothers.

Okay, point two: Gift turns out to be for me — from Finn. Odd. Reaction? Pure unadulterated delight followed by concern that Quinn might feel left out or jealous.

Moving on. Point three: Finn suggests dinner for the three of us. Nothing odd there. The three of us end up eating together at least once or twice a week. My reaction? Whew! Things are back to normal.

And finally point four: Quinn begs off from dinner and suggests Finn and I meet up later. Again, not unusual. Finn and I have done lots of things without Quinn. We are friends. He —

Oh stars! He got me a gift. This means I need a gift for him and I just gave Quinn my best — and only — idea. I need to accept that whatever I think just happened, what really happened was that it's the holidays. I have no one in my life romance–wise. A really classy, good–looking and kind man who happens to be my best friend's boyfriend bought me a trinket to lift my spirits.

I spend the next ninety minutes searching. Nothing is right. Not the Hermes tie. Not the leather day planner. Not the biking gloves that are exactly what he would use, but how would that not be a slap in the face for Quinn? There are no books that measure up to the hardbound poetry collection that just came out.

I am trudging along, head splitting from all the noise and the repetitions of the mall Santa ho–ho–ho–ing his way through an endless line of children — some of whom are making it imminently clear that they would prefer to be anywhere but on this guy's lap. Then I spot the perfect gift.

"Could I show you something from the display?" The young man speaks with a slight British accent. I realize that I have been gawking at the wares displayed in the old–fashioned small–paned window of his international boutique for at least a full two minutes.

"That," I say, pointing.

He smiles and leads the way back inside his shop where he opens the door to the display and removes a working model of a 15–speed bicycle made entirely of recyclables — pieces of tin cans, rolled magazine pages and faded rubber bands. It is a work of art — sculpture in miniature. "It is from Africa," he tells me. "A small village in Kenya." He moves the tiny handlebars and pedals to show the workmanship. The piece even has a removable tire pump and water bottle. I am fascinated.

Finn not only loves biking, he's made the environment his life's work. "It's perfect."

The young man smiles. "It's also reasonable," he tells me showing me the price tag that is obscenely low. I want to give him more. I want to tell him to send the balance to the artist.

"I'll take it."

The young man offers gift wrap also made from recyclables. I think how Finn will love this — this gift, the wrapping, the idea that the sale of it made a difference for some artist in Africa.

I am practically floating as I exit the store and head for my dinner with Finn. I am convinced that what took place earlier when he handed me a gift had nothing to do with confusing feelings about Finn and everything to do with the fact that one simply cannot accept a gift at this time of year without giving one in return. I panicked — pure and simple.

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><p><strong>AN: Don't forget to review! I'll try to upload another chapter in a couple days, so stay tuned! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**I just saw the episode "Funeral" and it brought me to tears...but I was so glad that Finn finally broke up with Quinn, although I'm not sure if that's official on her side. Anyways, after watching the show, I thought I'd upload another chapter of this story. Thank you again for reading!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Four<strong>

By midweek, Finn, Quinn and I are back to our usual routine — going about our varied careers during the day and getting together with our friends in the evening and on weekends.

But on this particular evening, Quinn, Puck and I are at the gym marching along on side–by–side treadmills. That is, Quinn and I are marching. Puck is running and hardly breathing hard at all.

"Okay, spill it, Rachel," Puck says as he punches in a higher speed and incline. "What was wrong with Jesse?"

"Sam," Quinn corrects him. "Jesse was long ago."

"Sam — Jesse, what's the difference?" He focuses on me and his expression is one of interest and sympathy. "What happened?"

I had broken up with Jesse — my first relationship that had started with the promise of something serious. Quinn has this theory that the reason I cannot sustain a relationship is the fear that I will be dumped. Therefore, according to her, I become the dump–er because I am determined not to become the dump–ee.

This time it's my turn to shrug. "It just didn't work out."

"Or maybe it was just you?"

"Puck!" Quinn sounds a warning that Puck ignores.

"Look, I just want her to be happy and not pick any losers. I mean, maybe she could use some professional help."

I pause here to remind all that Quinn is a professional matchmaker. She's successfully matched any number of singles — like me. Not that I have ever…not that I would ever…not that I….

"Maybe my brother has a point, Quinn," I hear coming out of my mouth and wonder who on earth I might be channeling. "How would you like to find me a date for New Year's Eve?"

I am pathetic. I have just asked a professional matchmaker to help me — Rachel Berry — find a date. I whip through any number of scenarios in which I take back the words that I never thought would exit this mouth. I see Quinn's lips move and Puck nodding, but I am lost in Neverland, trying to come to terms with the fact that not only have I asked for help, I _need_ help.

"Well?" Quinn says. Both she and Noah are clearly waiting for the answer that only I could give to a question I have no clue has even been asked.

"I don't know," I hedge. "What do you think?" Safe at first. Quinn will always offer an opinion.

"I think you want the opposite of what you've had," she says.

"Discuss," I say, buying more time.

"Well, you seem to be drawn to guys who are definitely successful but also pretty self–centered."

I glance at my brother. "What do you think Noah?"

He shrugs and looks away. "How would I know what you want in a man?"

"But you said not to date — and these were your words — 'losers.' Define losers."

"Some guy who is more into his career or stock portfolio than making you happy. The way I see it, you went out with a guy who get it that you are fun and gorgeous and talented, but they never bother to go any deeper."

My cheeks are now flaming and I can only hope that both Quinn and Noah assume it's the exercise.

"So, what are you looking for, Berry?" Quinn asks.

I clear my throat and tick off the qualifications between gasps for breath as the treadmill inclines to hill (read "mountain climbing") position. "I want someone who is nice and funny and caring and reasonably ambitious and won't scare little kids away with his looks and…"

Quinn laughs as she starts into her cooldown routine. "Anything else?"

"Yeah," I add softly. "Noah's right. He has to really really care about me."

"What would be on the short list?" Puck asks.

"That is the short list," I reply as I send my treadmill directly to stop mode without bothering with the cooldown.

"Wow!" Puck clucks his tongue sympathetically as he looks at Quinn. "I'd say you've got your work cut out for you, Lucy Matchmaker."

"I'll find someone," Quinn says confidently.

"Someone good enough for our Rachel? By New Year's Eve?" Puck challenges.

"Why are we focusing on me?" I ask with a false laugh and a hint of irritation. "What about the two of you — speaking of matches made in heaven."

Puck and Quinn glance at each other, then Puck looks away. Something passes between them. Something I can't quite put my finger on. Something new — something that feels a little like our world has just shifted.

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><p>Whatever happened between Noah and Quinn at the gym stays on my mind all the following day. Talking to Quinn is impossible. She's in meetings and finalizing plans for a benefit for the Red Cross. Left to my own devices, I overanalyze every word, every glance, every nuance of the conversation. By the time my cell rings late that evening, I am convinced that I have, as usual, taken nothing and made it into high drama.<p>

"Rachel, it's Quinn." She sounds fresh and energetic while I am barely able to keep my eyes open. "I just had a terrific idea."

I am fully awake now. Something in her voice tells me this terrific idea involves me. "Okay," I say cautiously.

Quinn laughs. "Come on, it's nothing terrible. I've been working on the idea of a match for you and with the short time frame and all —"

"You don't have to do this, Quinn. I can find a date for New Year's."

"But someone spectacular?"

"Spectacular might be overstating it, but there are a number of candidates for looks–great–in–a–tux and won't–bore–me–to–tears."

"Not good enough. So, here's the idea. I want you to go out on a date — just the two of you — with Finn."

I am struck dumb for a long moment to the point that Quinn asks if I am still there. "Finn?" I say. "A date with Finn?"

"Not for real — just sort of a trial run. If the two of you went out, then he could gather ideas for the search. I mean, you and I are way too close for me to be objective and a man's point of view would definitely help, and what man is safer than Finn?"

"Did either of you consider that Finn and I go out all the time?"

"With me. This is different."

_You could say that!_

"I don't know, Quinn. I really don't see the point."

"The point is that we don't have time to set up the usual speed–date process. At the moment I have a list of possibilities, but we could narrow that down if we had Finn's input. The clock is running, Rachel."

"Finn and I have had plenty of times when it was just us — when you were working," I argue. "And besides, if people see us out to dinner or whatever, they're bound to start rumors about you and Finn."

Quinn sighs. She is used to the rumor mill that surrounds her family's every step. Local gossipmongers have been waiting ever since Finn and Quinn started dating again for an engagement announcement. "Well, that's their problem, isn't it? Finn and I know where we stand and frankly it's no one else's business." Her tone is clipped, bordering on anger.

There it is again. That hint that things have changed.

"Quinn? Are you and Finn okay? I mean, it's like — I don't know —like something has changed."

There's a pause. "That's just it. Nothing has changed. Finn and I are the best of friends and we are just tired of trying to live up to the fantasies of others."

I immediately regret my crack at the gym about "match made in heaven." "Talk to me," I plead, trying hard to ignore the sudden rush of excitement I feel at the thought that perhaps Finn and Quinn are no longer a couple.

"Oh no you don't, my friend," she says and her voice has recovered its usual lilt. "This is about you. Are you going to let me help you or not?"

"Only if you agree to let me help you," I reply.

"Okay, but you first. Will you go out with Finn?"

"Sure." After all, going out alone with Finn will give me a chance to uncover whatever is going on between him and Quinn.

"That was way too easy," Quinn says.

"Take it or leave it."

She laughs. "Okay, I'll have Finn call you."

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><p><strong>AN: I'll try to upload another chapter before the weekend. Please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for the late update guys. I've been busy for the past two weeks studying for my finals and my professor likes to torture us so he gave us two papers to submit on finals weeks, along with a draft and outline. It was terror! But I'm glad it's all over and now I can focus on this story.**

**Did you guys watch the finale last Tuesday? I think there's room for improvement, but all in all it was AWESOME! So many suprises, but the best part was [spoiler alert!] Finn and Rachel gettting back together. They're on a concert tour right no and if you haven't seen it, I recommend you watch it! It was SO GOOD! Definitely worth your time and money.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Five<strong>

By the time Finn calls I have worked out the entire scenario. We will go for coffee and perhaps a walk if the weather holds. Perfect. A lovely afternoon.

Finn has other ideas.

"I like the idea of a walk. How about dinner at Breadstix and some gallery–hopping afterward?"

"We can always have coffee or somethin." I reply.

"Well, I need to see you in that kind of setting. After all, we don't want to match you with some schlub who's going to take you for fast food."

"Dutch treat then," I say.

"No." He actually sounds offended. There's an awkward moment then he adds, "Look, Rachel, just relax and enjoy this, okay? I think I can afford a nice dinner with a friend."

"Well, when you put it that way, okay."

Dressing for the evening with Finn — I have adamantly refused to keep referring to it as a "date" — is beyond difficult. When I find my hand on the phone ready to call Quinn and seek advice on what to wear, I realize that I need to get a grip. "Oh, for heaven's sake, girl, put something on that doesn't itch or make you look fat and call it a day."

I settle on a teal crocheted sweater, tan tweed trousers and chocolate brown ankle boots with a heel that I can walk in for hours. I pull my hair back at the nape of my neck with a gold clip and finish off with gold earrings. Done — not overdone.

Finn calls for me at seven. He's cover–model material in a perfectly tailored gray business suit, blue shirt and striped navy tie. He presents me with a small bouquet of white freesia, already in a clear crystal vase. He helps me into my coat and holds doors for me throughout the evening — door to my apartment, door to his car, door to the restaurant, doors to galleries. I thank him every time. In our "friend" mode he usually leaves me to fend for myself.

We each feel a bit of awkwardness at this change in our usual routine. Once we are in the car and on the way to the restaurant, conversation is sporadic. Finally Finn laughs and says, "Well, this feels pretty much like a real first date, wouldn't you say?"

"But it isn't," I hasten to assure him — or myself. "I mean, it's not really a date at all." _But I wish it were._

As that thought flashes through my mind I stare at Finn. _Oh stars, I do wish it were. What kind of friend am I?_

Finn looks over at me and grins uncertainly. "What?" he asks.

Here's what you need to understand — in the flash of this moment, I replay hours of bike rides through the autumn countryside, laughter shared over countless cups of coffee, heartfelt confidences shared through teen years until now. And nowhere in that flashback do I see Quinn — just me and Finn.

"I can't do this," I mutter and actually put out my hand as if to open the car door.

Finn reaches over and stops me — not that I am so out of it that I think it wise to leap out while the car is running along the beltway at sixty miles an hour.

"Hey," he shouts as he controls the car and puts one arm out as if to restrain me.

I blink and move my hand away from the door.

"If you'd rather not go, fine," he says quietly as he focuses on the road. He sounds hurt and he refuses to look at me.

What is your problem, Berry? This is Finn — buddy, friend — trying as usual to do a good deed. Get over yourself.

But I can't help noticing that my feelings for Finn are changing. I am wishing that this date were real. I am wishing that Finn were free to explore a possible relationship beyond friendship with me. I am coveting the man I always assumed was destined to deliver the happily–ever–after for my best friend.

_God, please help me get through this evening and keep temptation away._

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><p>Finn pulls the car to the side of the road, turns to look at me and says, "Hey, it's just us, right? Just dinner." It's as if I've spoken the unspeakable aloud.<p>

I realize how tough this evening is going to be when I imagine that there's some hesitancy in his voice, as well. I nod, take a deep breath and force a sisterly grin. "Okay, show me your best first–date form, Mr. Hudson."

Finn's best turns out to be pretty sensational.

Over dinner he continues to interview me. He's very good at it, in that I have to keep reminding myself that he's doing his assignment — gathering information for Quinn to use in finding me a real date.

"Dessert?" he asks when the waiter has cleared away our entrées and gone to get the dessert display tray.

"Not unless we can take a five–mile walk and come back."

But the tray is filled with luscious selections. Finn watches me as the waiter describes each in tempting detail. "We could share one," he suggests.

"You choose," I say.

"Let's choose together and see how we match," he suggests. "One, two, three —"

In chorus we both go for the vegan Chocolate ice cream, and when it arrives we see that the waiter has had the chef decorate the plate with raspberry sauce scrolled into little hearts along the rim of the plate.

"He thinks we're a couple," I whisper as we savor the rich dessert.

"As do several others in the place," Finn adds, smiling at an older couple at a nearby table.

"Anniversary?" the old woman asks when Finn catches her eye.

"First date," Finn replies as if it really is.

After leaving the restaurant we stroll down the street, glancing in shop windows and stopping in several of the galleries open for the evening. In one place the art is all canvasses that look as if they've been produced with a paint gun. The artist has that presumptive attitude of wannabes who believe the only reason they are not yet famous is because peons like Finn and me don't get it. He attempts to explain his vision to the several patrons gathered around a massive canvas.

"My work illustrates my vision for the world, for the future," he begins grandly.

"Chaos?" Finn whispers to me.

I suppress a giggle.

"I don't believe that the viewer should find his or her own meaning — the meaning is there. It is clear. It is —"

"Scary," Finn mutters and this time I burst out laughing. The artist and a couple of his devoted fans turn on me with a scowl.

I fake a coughing fit, grab Finn's hand and head for the door. Outside, Finn and I collapse onto a bench, laughing so hard that we are gasping for breath. So, it takes a moment before we realize that we are still holding hands, fingers entwined.

Finn stands and pulls me to my feet. "Onward," he says, nodding to the next gallery. We start walking. When I realize that we are still holding hands, it takes every ounce of willpower to pull mine free.

**A/N: So far so good...what do you think will happen next? I'll upload another one in a few days :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Here's another chapter for you guys. Thank you for the people that left some reviews and for those who put this story on alert. You guys are awesome!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Six<strong>

Christmas Eve and Quinn, Finn, and Kurt picked me up just before midnight for Christmas Eve services. The four of us have followed this tradition for years. Most years I have a date, but tonight it's just the four of us.

Things didn't improve when we get back to my apartment. I have this kitchen that is barely large enough for one person to maneuver in, let alone four. And now that my radar related to Finn Hudson is on high alert, I'm overly sensitive to everything. Finn reaching over my shoulder to retrieve a salad bowl. Finn backing into me as he bends to pull Quinn's Italian bread out of the oven. Finn popping the cork on the sparkling grape juice that Kurt brought and once again steadying my hand as he fills the glass I'm holding.

Okay, time to get a grip here. Consider for a moment that all of this is extremely one–sided. Forced to consider, I would have to admit that Finn is not doing anything differently. He laughs and talks and kids around with us as he always does. He and Quinn are not showing signs of any sort of underlying tension that hints at a disagreement between them. _Nothing_ is different — except me. And frankly I have never in my life felt such guilt, such shame.

After all, even if Quinn insists that she and Finn are friends and nothing more, there are Finn's feelings to consider. If he's hung in there with Quinn all this time, doesn't that mean he's still hoping maybe someday —

"You okay?" That would be Finn, settling next to me on the floor in front of my fake fireplace. We've all changed into more casual clothes and he's wearing jeans and the sweater I helped Quinn pick out to give him last year.

"Fine," I answer in a falsetto that would bring dogs running. I scramble to my feet and hurry off to the kitchen to get the camera. "Quinn, sit there next to Finn. I want to get a picture."

I don't miss the exchange of a look between Quinn and Finn. His says, _Was it something I said?_ Her reply is a shrug. The picture taking allows me to establish my distance from the two of them, to keep them safely together where they belong.

"Rachel, will you lighten up?" Quinn says when I spend less than a nanosecond before getting up to refill glasses. She pats the cushion across from her. It seems safe enough so I sit.

"Hey," Kurt announces, "it's well after midnight. It's Christmas morning and what does that mean, boys and girls?"

"Presents!" Quinn and I shout together as the four of us scoot across the floor.

"I'll go first," Quinn says, excitement coloring her voice as she hands a package to me, Kurt and one to Finn.

I rip the paper away and tug at the carefully taped box in my zeal to get to what's inside. "Oooh," I squeal, holding up a hand–painted silk scarf I had admired at an art fair the previous summer. "Thank you, Quinn. It's sensational." I rest the scarf on my lap as I lean over and kiss her cheek.

"It's a great color," Kurt agrees, picking the scarf up. "Here, let's see what mine is." He quickly rips the paper away to reveal a similar silk scarf but with a different design and color. "Perfect."

"Now you," I say to Finn, pointing to the package that could not be anything but a book.

Finn winks at Quinn as he carefully undoes the wrapping. "It's heavy," he comments. "Perhaps a desk diary?"

Quinn laughs. "Stop guessing and open it."

When the paper falls away and reveals the special edition book, the look on Finn's face is priceless. He runs his fingers over the special binding and gently opens the book. "Ah, Quinn, it's fantastic. Thank you."

"It was Rachel's idea," Quinn says. "She always knows the best gift."

"Yep, when it comes to shopping, I'm a pro," I say, more to get past the emotional chaos I'm experiencing than anything else.

Kurt gives a small cough, "I believe I'm the one who taught you everything you know, my little munchkin friend." He looked like he was offended, but then laughed it off.

"Okay, my turn," Finn says as he stands and puts the book carefully on the table as if protecting it from getting trampled. He rubs his hands together and searches under the tree. "Let's see — there's this small box —"

"You mean there _was_ this small box," Kurt says dryly with a glance at me.

"It's right there," I protest, "wrapping entirely intact."

Finn hands me the present that I have fingered and sniffed and shaken and all but opened. Once again I rip off the wrapping. It's a jewelry box. My heart pounds and I glance up to see Quinn's reaction.

"Well?" she says moving closer for a better look. "Open it already."

Inside is a small silver charm depicting a bike next to a railroad track on a slender silver chain. Kurt sees it and starts to laugh. "Oh, Finn, it's wonderful. Now she'll never be able to forget that day."

Finn grins. "That was the general idea."

It's a good thing that we always stay up all night because there is no way I am going to get any sleep. Actually, it's a trade–off between being so aware of every little thing about Finn, and feeling guilty about how I'm betraying Quinn even though I'm truly not doing anything but looking.

"Rachel?"

All three was staring at me as if I had suddenly passed over into another world. My eyes suddenly focused on Finn's mouth.

_CPR, please,_ I think, dreamily, focusing on that mouth.

The mouth grins. "Earth to Rachel," Finn says, snapping his fingers like a hypnotist bringing a subject out from under.

"Sorry," I mutter and turn my attention to Quinn. "Your turn. Open Finn's present."

Finn passes her the gift — a large box.

Quinn burrows through layers of colorful tissue and unearths a sheepskin bike–seat cover. She giggles. "Wonderful."

"That's not all," he says and she returns to the box, digging for more and comes up with a smaller box.

_Please don't let it be an engagement ring,_ I think and am immediately contrite at my selfishness.

Quinn opens the box and her eyes glisten with tears. "Oh Finn, you didn't," she says.

I hold my breath as she produces — a key?

"What is it?" I blurt.

"A new bike," Finn explains, "or at least the key to the lock. Now you'll be able to keep up with Rachel and me," he tells Quinn as he leans toward her across the piles of discarded wrapping paper and kisses her lightly on the lips.

I have a sudden need to retrieve a garbage bag from the kitchen and start cleaning up. It's pretty obvious that the man is in love with her.

"Rachel Barbra Berry, get back in here," Kurt orders. "You aren't getting off so easily. We still have to open your presents."

I plaster a smile on my face and return to the circle. "That one's for you," I tell Kurt pointing to a large hatbox.

"Oh gee, I wonder what this could be," he says with a grin as he unearths a stylish cloche. "Oooh! How lovely! Another addition to my collection of fedora hats," Kurt tried it on and gave me a tight hug.

"And this one is for you, Quinn." I hand another big box to her.

Quinn opened it like a child and revealed a new leather suitcase. "Thanks Rachel! I've been eyeing this at the mall for some time now. It must have cost you a fortune."

"It comes with a condition," I say to her. "Get rid of your old one."

"Hear! Hear!" Kurt agrees.

Quinn grins. "Done," she says as she tried it om in front of a silver Christmas ornament.

"Now it's my turn to hand out your presents. Finn, yours is at home so I only brought Quinn's and Rachel's." Kurt said as he moved to grab his presents under the tree.

He gave Quinn a small box wrapped in light blue paper and he gave me the same one with light pink paper.

"I bet you he gave us similar presents," Quinn whispered to me.

Kurt doesn't seem to notice. "Come on girls, open it!"

At the same time, Quinn and I ripped the paper and opened the tiny box to see a shiny card.

I held it up to see clearly and my eyes went huge. "You gave us a Spa gift card?"

"It's for a whole day of pampering, all expenses paid of course, with VIP treatment and the whole she-bang."

"That's so nice of you, Kurt. Rachel and I definitely needs one," Quinn said.

"Do I get one like that?" Finn asked. "Like an all day spa for guys?"

"No, Finn," Kurt said. "I got you a different present. But I have one for myself so I can go with the girls."

"I can't wait for our girls day out!" Quinn and I started jumping like kids.

"Well, I guess that's it," Finn says as he starts stuffing the garbage bag.

"Not quite," Kurt says and reaches for the last present under the tree. My gift to Finn. They lean over his shoulder as he unwraps it. I have this urge to snatch it from his hands.

"Wow," Finn says low and soft as he reveals the sculpture. "Wow," he says again as he examines it almost reverently.

"Oh, Rachel, it's wonderful," Quinn says.

Remember how I said Quinn and I are so close that we know instantly when the other one is holding back? Well, I knew that Quinn was being completely open. She absolutely loved my gift for Finn.

"It's just something I stumbled across that night at the mall," I say. "After all, you put the pressure on by giving _me_ a gift. I'm glad you like it, Finn."

I glance at Quinn and wonder if she can see that I'm definitely not telling the whole story. She smiles at me. She is a saint.

Our night went on beautifully, enjoying each others company and sharing stories all night long.

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><p><strong>AN: I know it's too late / too early for Christmas, but I just had to set the story during the holidays because I love the feeling of Christmas (and New Years) because I think it's romantic when two people fall in love during those times. Anyways, hope you liked it! :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guys! I am so sorry for not updating sooner. Something came up and I had some problems that I needed to fix. Please forgive me, I did not mean to make you wait so long. Anyways, how is your summer going so far? Hope all is well and may I say that our favorite show Glee will be airing season 3 on September 20, 2011. I just found out about the information today actually. So yeah, I am really looking forward to that!**

**Okay, so here's chapter seven and I kinda made some scenes run by fast just so I can cover some of the plot, but I hope you enjoy them. And please, do not forget to review!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Seven<strong>

On Christmas Day we each go our own way, spending time with family but staying in touch by phone as we make plans to get together in the evening. So imagine my surprise when Finn appears at the door of my parents' home. Not that his stopping by is so unusual. As I mentioned, Finn's been in and out of our house since the day his family moved across the street.

"Merry Christmas," he says and hands me a small gift bag.

He has brought me another gift? I am stunned.

"Quinn asked me to drop this off."

Or maybe not. I was quite disappointed.

"Pumpkin?" That would be Dad. "Ah, Finn, come on in out of the cold. How about a cucumber sandwich?"

Then Daddy is there with Noah, my aunt, her husband and my niece (who thinks that Finn walks on water). Finn is swept up in a tsunami of family and I am left standing by the door.

He settles in, accepting the cucumber sandwich, talking sports with my dad and brother, admiring my niece's new keyboard. From time to time he looks over at me and smiles but conversation is impossible.

Quinn calls and we decide on a movie. I thank her extravagantly for the package and let her know that Finn is there, making sure to say that he's been kidnapped by the men of my family, implying that I have no guilt in his having stayed for an hour.

"Finn's still there?"

I examine Quinn's tone for any hint of jealousy or alarm and find none.

"That's great," she says. "Is the lake frozen? Skating would be so much more fun than a dumb movie."

She's right, of course, but still I waver. "I don't know. I mean, yes, the lake is frozen solid. Maybe you and Finn should go."

"Hey, what is it? You sound really down."

_No, I'm just a terrible person who is incapable of resisting the feelings I am suddenly discovering for a man who is in love with you — feelings that are really beginning to overwhelm me._ "I think I might be coming down with something." This is not a lie. How Quinn chooses to interpret my words is her problem.

"You can't be sick. Not before New Year's," Quinn says. "We still have to find you Mr. Right and there's so little time."

She's right. The only cure for me is to find someone else — someone fun and funny and caring and handsome and NOT my best friend's almost–fiancé.

I glance over at Finn, remembering the look on his face when he saw my gift to him. He looks up as if feeling my eyes on him. Flustered, I point to the phone and mouth, "Quinn."

Finn comes into the hallway and stands next to me while Quinn and I make plans. I repeat ideas Quinn offers and he nods in agreement. "Or," I say offering Quinn's latest idea, "she could come over and we could talk about finding me a date for New Year's."

Finn makes a face. "I'll pass."

"Let's go skating," I say to Quinn and Finn grins. Quinn agrees and hangs up. "All set," I tell him.

"Great. I'll see if anyone else wants to go."

The members of my family are firm believers that God intended people to stay inside if at all possible once temperatures dipped to freezing or below. They all take a pass. Except for my brother Noah.

"Looks like it's just us," Noah says.

"And Quinn," I remind him.

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><p>Quinn toots the horn of her BMW and the three of us rush out. Finn holds open the front door for me and then folds his lanky frame into the back followed by Noah.<p>

We rent skates from the vendor who is ageless, then sit on cold benches to lace them. Noah is ready first and slides effortlessly onto the ice, creating little piles of ice shavings as he stops and turns, glides a few strides and then turns again.

"Hello, this isn't rocket science," he calls. "Let's get this show on the road."

We skate for nearly an hour, laughing and challenging each other to a rendition of ice skating "horse" where each has to replicate a move. Noah wins hands down. Quinn surrenders in defeat, Finn laughs and I end up on my backside trying to imitate my brother's most challenging move — a something–something–sow–cow.

"To show what a gracious champion I can be, I'll treat for hot chocolate," Noah says as he takes the skates that we've removed and heads off toward the rental hut. Finn went with him carrying his own pair of skates.

Quinn and I sit on the bench and put on our regular shoes. For possibly the first time in my life, I don't know what to say to her. I am shy and unsure of myself as if she were a new acquaintance. Fortunately she saves the day.

"All right. We need to get down to business. I went through the files and there are at least three new guys in the program that I think might fit the bill."

"Such as?"

"Samuel Moser."

"Not Samuel," Noah says as he arrives carrying two cups of hot chocolate.

"Why not?" Quinn asked as she accepted the cup Noah offered. Finn arrived with two cups as well and he offered me one.

"Because he's —" Noah shrugs and adds, "He's just not right."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "There's Samuel," she repeats. "Then there's Cameron Foster."

Finn makes a face as do I. Quinn glances from one to the other. "Okay, so Cameron is a stretch. How about Damien O'Neil?"

Finn and I glance at each other. Noah shrugs. "I don't really know him. He might be okay, I guess," he says.

_Just okay? I need fantastic,_ I scream inside but I say, "Might as well."

Quinn sighs with relief. "Okay, then we'll start with Damien. Coffee tomorrow?"

With the holiday hitting the weekend, Monday will be another day off for everyone. "Coffee's fine," I say and try to ignore the sudden lump of panic rising in my throat.

"Gee, don't get too excited," Quinn says laughing.

I remind myself that this is all necessary — more so now that I have accepted the challenge of resisting the temptation before me.

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><p>The next afternoon I meet Damien. He seems sweet and charming in a sort of desperately wanting to please way that drives me nuts. We talk about people we know in common, our jobs, holidays and families. After about twenty minutes — including ordering and being served — we fall silent.<p>

"Did you ever think about aliens?" he asks.

"Not this week," I joke and then see that he is dead serious.

"I think they really do exist, but I don't want to call them aliens. Instead I want to call them ancient astronauts. I think they posses all the knowledge about the whole universe..."

"Well, that's not likely…" I reply.

"You think not? Think again. But," and here he reaches across and grasps my hand, not in a romantic sense, but in the sense of enlisting me in his topic, "I have a plan." His eyes glow with the zeal of his mission.

_Whoa!_ I smile and repossess my hand — not without a struggle. "You know, Damien, I just remembered I need to be — gee, look at the time."

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><p>I'm on my way to Quinn's office in the lower level of the church when I pass the sanctuary and am drawn inside by the sheer peace and quiet of it. I stand at the back for a moment, my eyes drawn to the soft glow of low lighting that spotlights the altar and the soaring contemporary stained–glass window behind it. I slide into a seat in the last pew and fold my hands.<p>

"I need some help here," I whisper fervently. "I understand that my feelings for Finn are a test. You couldn't possibly want me to act on them. I mean, think of the hurt that would bring to Quinn. She might not yet see that You've given her this incredible gift of a man who will love her forever, but it's not my place to interfere with that. Think of the damage it would do to our friendship. I mean, is it worth it to lose all of that? No."

I pause a moment, feeling tears of frustration well. "I don't know what to do. I have these feelings and they must be wrong and what's worse, I think Finn might be starting to feel something for me, as well. Am I drawing him into this? Tempting him to betray his feelings for Quinn? Please, please, please help us."

"Rachel?"

Quinn is standing in the doorway not ten feet from where I am resting my head on my folded hands, with the back of the pew in front of me.

"Hey," I say and swipe at the tears, hoping the dim lighting will keep her from seeing.

"What are you doing in here?"

I shrug and grin. "Just thinking and talking to the Big Guy."

Quinn slides into the pew in front of me and places her hand on mine. "You've been crying. Tell me."

"It's nothing. Really. Just feeling a little sorry for myself."

Quinn frowns. "Damien?"

I tell her the random story at the coffee shop and see that her shock at having missed that in accepting Damien into the program is enough to make her forget about me and yet, I bring her right back to what's really bothering me.

"Quinn, if you and Finn were ever to… I mean, what do you think you would do if the two of you decided to go your separate ways?"

Quinn stares at me and I can see that she's trying to translate this into what I'm really asking her. _Please don't let her figure it out,_ I pray silently.

"Well, I don't think that would ever happen. I just can't imagine anything that would drive a wedge between us just as there's nothing that could harm the friendship that you and I have." She cocks her head to one side. "What's wrong? Are you upset because I'm pressuring you to find Mr. Right? We can always call off the deal, Rachel."

"You know what this is about? It's about a woman who hasn't found her one and only. It's about New Year's Eve and no date in sight. It's about whether or not I am really so desperate that I will date a weird guy just to go to some party." I stand up and so does Quinn. "And you know what?" I add as the two of us walk out into the vestibule arm in arm. "I am _not_ that desperate."

"We'll find someone, Rachel. Come on."

"Nope. That's just it — I'm not up for the hunt. I'd far rather spend this New Year's Eve in my flannel PJs munching microwave popcorn and watching Barbra Streisand movies. It might be lonely, but at least my dignity will be intact. "

Quinn is still not convinced. "But we've always — you, me and Finn. We've never started a year without at least touching base with each other."

"So, call me at midnight, okay? We'll sing _Auld Lang Syne_ together and I'll see you both on New Year's Day."

I can see that Quinn is not convinced. I, on the other hand, believe that my prayers have just been answered. I have found the strength to remove myself from a situation that could have caused pain for three people I love: Quinn, Finn — and me. I feel noble and brave in having resisted temptation.

But on New Year's Eve, by nine o'clock I have no appetite for popcorn and my flannel pajamas make me feel old–maidish and frumpy. I have just burrowed into my bed when the phone rings.

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><p><strong>AN: Rachel's in a dilemma...should she follow her brain and choose friendship over love, or should she follow her heart and choose love over friendship? **


	8. Chapter 8

**I'm SO sorry for the long wait. I've been enjoying my summer way too much I haven't found the time to update this story. That's why I made this a little bit longer than the previous ones to make up for lost time. Oh, and a BIG thank you to all the people that sent me their reviews and story alerts. You guys are truly awesome!**

**Okay, on with the story. Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Eight<strong>

Caller ID tells me that it's Quinn on her cell, checking up on me, no doubt. I glance at the clock — a little past ten — take a deep breath, clear my throat and answer with a perky, "Happy Almost–New Year!"

"Rachel? Get dressed. You have to get over here right now."

"We had this conversation."

"If you want it on your conscience that you are ruining the evening for all of us — me, Finn and you — then fine. Rachel Barbra Berry, if you care anything for our lifelong friendship —"

Did I mention that for all her angelic ways, Quinn really knows how to lay on the guilt when the occasion calls for it?

"Quinn, I cannot show up at this event alone and you know it."

"You won't be alone." The connection starts to break up and I catch isolated phrases and words. "Finn" followed by "the perfect match for you" followed by "Smart, funny" then "caring and —"

"You're breaking up," I shout as if that will help.

I hear Quinn say something to someone else and then laughter. Finn's laughter. "Stop stalling," she urges — the connection strong once more. "I'm sending my mother's driver. He'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"Fifteen minutes? I need at least half an hour," I shriek.

"Twenty–five," Quinn says firmly. "And Rachel, check your text message after I hang up, okay?"

I toss the phone onto the bed. I will check my messages in the car. At the moment I have an impossible twenty–five minute deadline to meet.

By the time I hear the car horn tooting outside, my bedroom looks like a tornado blew through it. Gowns, shoes, accessories are tossed around the room in wild abandon and I stand before my full–length mirror in a white beaded halter gown, hopping on one foot as I pull the strap of my gold sandal into place. I grab a shawl, a vintage beaded purse and earrings and head for the door. As the driver pulls away, I realize that my cell remains buried under the mess on my bed, but there's no time to go back for it. Whatever the text message, Quinn can deliver it in person.

The car pulls up outside mansion–turned–museum where the sounds of rock music blare from a second floor ballroom. A valet holds the door for me and I step out onto a red carpet protected from the elements by a canopy and heat lamps. I feel like Cinderella as I walk up the marble stairs into the foyer.

A butler takes my shawl and indicates a curved stairway leading to the second floor. The music is building and now I can hear the band leader building excitement for the countdown to midnight.

Pausing at the entrance to the ballroom to get my bearings, my eyes go immediately to Finn. He is standing at the foot of the short stairway leading to a crush of people all talking and laughing and enjoying themselves. I am so glad I came. I smile and then take a moment to look for Quinn. She is chatting with my brother Noah. They spot me and waves but continued talking to each other.

"I'm really glad you decided to come."

Finn is standing next to me, his deep bass voice cutting through all the noise as he takes my hand and tucks it into the crook of his elbow. I fought the urge to run.

"Did you get my message? I mean, you don't have to feel obligated —" Finn was trying to say.

"Nine–eight–seven…" The band leader and partygoers chant as the music stops and only the drummer keeps time. In the din of shouted numbers it is impossible to continue the conversation.

I start to move toward Quinn, but the crush of the crowd makes movement impossible and Finn stays where he is. "Four–three…" Quinn waves and shrugs at the folly of moving. I smile at Finn and join in the chant.

"Two–one! Happy New Year!"

I prepare for Finn's peck on the lips before he works his way through the masses to Quinn. I turn my face to his, close my eyes and find myself surrendering to the sensation of Finn Hudson kissing me — as in really kissing me. What's worse, I kiss him back!

"Happy New Year, Rach," he whispers as the band breaks into _Auld Lang Syne._ And as all around us people sing the words to the ancient song, Finn continues to hold me loosely in his arms. He is smiling down at me as if what just happened between us is a good thing.

The flood of emotions racing through me leaves me in a panic. He kissed me. I kissed him. Where's Quinn? What kind of man is Finn that he would do this to her? What kind of friend am I?

Horrified at my own weakness and the damage I have no doubt done, I run from the room.

Thankfully, a cab is waiting as I run out the door and down the front steps. Since I opted to leave my shawl behind in my hurry to escape, I am glad of the overheated cab.

"Where to, Miss?"

Well, that is certainly the question, isn't it? Where do I go from here? I give the cabbie my address.

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><p>Back at my apartment, the phone light indicating messages blinks urgently. I unplug the phone then go into the bedroom to dig through discarded party clothes for the flannel pajamas. From under the pile on my bed, my cell is playing its signature Don't Rain On My Parade, by my idol Barbra Streisand. I silence it. In a darkened bathroom, I scrub off my makeup and release my hair. My brain went numb sometime during the cab ride and I have given up trying to think about what tomorrow might bring.<p>

Sometime later, the doorbell rings — and rings. Then heavy knocking accompanied by Finn calling for me to answer him follows that. I ignore him. He should be with Quinn trying to explain things to her. I have my own problems and am not in the mood to absolve Finn's guilt. To my relief, he finally gives up and I hear the roar of his car pulling away from the curb.

Sleep is impossible. I toss and turn and try to figure out how I am going to face Quinn. What will I say? What did she see? No, that doesn't matter. I know what happened and whether or not she's aware of the depths to which I have sunk, I owe her an apology and an explanation. I pray that she will find it in her heart to forgive me. As far as I am concerned, Finn is on his own.

That thought brings on pacing and ranting as I wonder how Quinn and I could have been so wrong about Finn. What kind of guy dumps his longtime love on New Year's Eve and kisses her best friend right in front of her? Had there been some kind of huge breakup in the time it had taken for me to get dressed and to the party? There had been absolutely no evidence of that when Quinn called. But something had happened, and somehow I had walked right into the middle of it and done what? Betrayed my dearest friend.

At dawn I give up trying to sleep, and clean up the mess I'd made getting ready for the party. I dress in black slacks and a gray sweater. I would have worn sackcloth and ashes if I'd been able to figure out what sackcloth was. I sit and watch the clock waiting for a decent hour to arrive so I can call Quinn.

And in the silence of those long minutes, I find myself replaying events of the previous night. Oh, let's face it — I am a terrible person, and what I think about is Finn's kiss. His hand gently cupping my cheek. His lips full and soft on mine. The sheer joy I felt as I gave in to temptation and kissed him back.

The phone rings, startling me. I have plugged it back in preparatory to calling Quinn. I check the caller ID. Quinn's office at the church. Of course, it's Sunday as well as New Year's Day. Where else would she be?

I pick up the phone. "Where shall I meet you?" I ask.

"Finn's here so —"

"No. Just you. I don't want to see Finn." It makes me feel even smaller to know that Quinn has already heard Finn's apology — and no doubt accepted it. Quinn is a forgiving person. Still, that does not change things. Our world has shifted and something has been lost — something precious that we can never recover. "Can we do this after services?" Suddenly I have this need to be in the presence of God and seek a higher forgiveness.

"Of course. I'll save you a seat. But Rachel —"

"See you in church," I interrupt and hang up before Quinn can say more.

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><p>When I arrive at the church, I take the narrow stairway up to the balcony. Below me I see Quinn and her mother. Finn is sitting across the aisle from them with his family. I notice that he and Quinn keep exchanging looks and glancing around to check the door. After the first hymn has ended they exchange one more look and shrug. Finn's mouth tightens and Quinn looks indescribably sad.<p>

The minister uses the hour to good effect, suggesting that everyone in attendance meditate and pray — at times in silence and at times with the soft strains of organ music as background. In–between he reads passages from scripture that seem to speak directly to me.

As the service ends, I realize that I have found a new level of peace and calm. I am ready to face Quinn — and even Finn — for however this all turns out, I am suddenly confident that it will be for the best.

During the closing hymn, Quinn looks back and up to where I am sitting. She smiles at me and I nod at her, unable to muster a return smile. When I exit the church she is waiting for me just outside the door. I glance around.

"Finn went to take care of something," she tells me. "Let's walk."

I don't even bother denying that I was looking for him as Quinn links her arm in mine and we walk along empty streets past gated embassies and on to the nearby park.

"Well, this is a fine mess we've made of things," she says softly after several minutes.

"Not you," I protest.

"Oh, definitely me," she replies. "I've embarrassed you and Finn is downright mortified."

"Quinn, please stop protecting him. He's not worthy of you."

To my surprise, she laughs. "The question should be, is he worthy of you?"

"You've lost me." I am so exhausted and emotionally drained that I suspect I am not processing things properly.

For an answer, Quinn takes my purse and rummages through it for my cell phone. "You haven't read his message, have you?" She flicks open the phone, cues up the text message and hands it to me.

_Rachel, I'll leave it to Quinn to say how she knew this before we did, but she's right. You and I are a perfect match — at least I think so. If you don't agree, then don't come to the party — that way neither of us has to endure the big dramatic letdown scene. On the other hand, Quinn is the pro when it comes to matchmaking so maybe we should give this a shot? Finn._

"Finn and I are the best of friends, Rachel, but we've known for some time that we each want more from a lifetime commitment like marriage. Then as I was trying to come up with someone for you — not just for New Year's Eve but forever — it dawned on me that Finn met every quality you named and more. The two of us were at dinner and I just came out with it."

"What happened?"

"He denied it at first, but then admitted that over the summer he had realized his feelings were beginning to change. Then when I sent the two of you off on that pretend date — well, he couldn't deny that he wished it were the real thing. And listening to you talk about that date, I knew you felt the same."

"Let me get this straight. Finn has never been in love with you? Has never even hinted about someday getting married? Has never —"

"Never. Come on, Berry, don't you think Finn and I both deserve the thunderbolt?"

"Of course, but —"

"Nick and I had always agreed that if the day came that we were sure we weren't going to find the love of our lives, then it wouldn't be so bad if we ended up together. On the other hand, we both hoped that understanding would never be tested. Now Finn has found you — right under his nose. The truth is that I think he's been in love with you since high school."

My head is spinning. Was I hearing this right? "But you set me up with other prospects —"

"I admit it took me awhile to see the real thing, but Rachel this is it. I know it. I knew it when you — of all people — bowed out of the party. Then when Finn and I were at dinner I could see that he was absolutely miserable. We started talking and by the time we got to the party I asked him straight out — are you in love with Rachel?"

Okay, I did not hear that right. "In love?"

Quinn shrugs. "I wanted to cut to the chase. He said yes and that's when I called you. I tried to tell you that Finn was the man for you. I thought you heard me."

I shake my head recalling the way Quinn's cell had cut in and out at the end of our conversation so that I was hearing only every fifth word. "I heard you say Finn and man for you but I just assumed —"

"We figured that out after you bolted," Quinn says and takes my hand between both of hers. "Ball's in your court. What are you going to do?" she asks.

"I don't know." I take a wild guess at my next move. "Talk to Finn?"

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><p><strong>AN: So there, it's out...Finn is in love with Rachel. I guess our girl has really nothing to worry about right? Stay tuned for the finale :)**

**P.S. The Glee 3D movie is coming out this August! Let's all watch it! (^_^)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Here it is, the long awaited finale! I really had a hard time writing this because I did not know how to end it right, but eventually I came to a decision and I hope you like how I finished this story off. A big thank you to all of the people who read, reviewed, alerted, and just plain enjoyed this story. I hope you continue to support me for I have more stories coming up in the future. **

**GLEE! GLEE! GLEE!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Nine<strong>

Quinn tells me that Finn is waiting for me at my parents' house. Sure enough, his car is in the driveway as I walk up the block from the bus stop.

Inside, the scene is like any other January Sunday afternoon at the Berry house. My fathers and brother and Finn are in front of the TV watching football. I close the front door softly and stand there taking it all in.

I can see Finn and he has just given my brother a high five in celebration of a touchdown. He is laughing at something my dad said. He looks up and sees me and his expression sobers.

"Gotta go." I read his lips as he pushes himself out of the recliner, shakes hands all around and comes into the hallway.

"Hi." He is nervous. So am I. Overnight everything has changed for us, and only now that I have spoken with Quinn do I understand that it is potentially a good thing. "Can we go somewhere and talk?" Finn asks.

I nod and try to figure out where I have misplaced my normal banter.

As we stepped outside, Finn cups my chin and kisses me. "Are we going to be okay?"

"I'm not sure. I've been fighting my feelings for weeks now."

"I know the feeling. I knew things had changed for me that day you almost went over the handlebars on your bike." He fingers the silver charm necklace visible at the open collar of my coat. "My heart stopped in that moment and I realized that if anything were to happen to you, I didn't know what I would do."

"But then why not let me know how you felt? Why not at least tell Quinn?"

Finn laughs. "I honestly didn't think I was your type. I mean, compared to the guys you seemed attracted to, I'm nothing like that. Then that night when we were talking about Quinn making a match for you, you gave us that list. I couldn't believe it. The things I thought were important to you weren't even on the list. Now I was really scared."

"Why?"

"Because I'd run out of excuses. Then last night when Quinn confronted me, it seemed too much to hope that we could move from being the best of friends to something — more. I mean, it would have been less awkward if we'd been total strangers instead of knowing each other for years. Then there was the relationship with your family. What if I blew this and that all went away? What if I ruined what we had? I wasn't willing to sacrifice that."

My heart started melting. "So where do we go from here?"

"Dinner?"

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><p>Finn opens his car door and I see that we have arrived at the same restaurant where we had our pretend date. "I thought we might try this place for real."<p>

"It looks closed," I say.

"I have connections," Finn assures me. "I know the club manager."

Inside, Finn leads me to a table in the center of the room. The only lighting in the gathering dusk comes from votive candles flickering on every table. A young man sits at the piano in the corner and plays classical music. At my place is a perfect white rose.

"I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of ordering for both of us," Finn says as he holds the chair for me and then takes his place across the table. The meal is exactly the menu we shared that night.

"If that night had been the real thing," Finn tells me as we pick at our food, uninterested in anything except each other, "I would have asked you if you thought we might get past friendship to actually dating."

"And I would have said that it seems to me building a friendship first would be a very good transition to seeing each other romantically."

Finn grins. "It does cut through some of the preliminaries, doesn't it?" Then he covers my hand with his. "Rach? There's no telling where this will lead, but here's what I know right now. I know that you are beautiful and filled with goodness and joy and everything that a man could ever want in a woman. I know that you are a loyal and caring friend who would sacrifice your own happiness if you thought pursuing it might hurt another person. I know that admitting my feelings for you has turned my world upside down. And I know that if you will give me the chance, I will move heaven and earth to make you happy."

I am so moved that I have no words, and yet I must somehow acknowledge that he has said everything I had hoped might be true. I spot an unlit candle on a nearby table and place it between us. Finn seems to understand, and as I reach for one of the other lighted candles on the table, he does the same. In unison, we light the single candle between us.

Outside a light snow is falling. The setting could not be more perfect. Back inside the car I rest my head on Finn's shoulder softly drifting into sleep...Then I awake with a start.

"Finn!"

He sits up so fast that he bumps his head against the top of the car. "What is it?" he asks, rubbing the tender spot.

"It's Quinn. What about Quinn?"

Finn grins. "What about her? All I know is her and Puck are dating."

"What? Quinn and Noah?" I asked in disbelief. "When did that happen?"

Finn holds my hand. "Love happens when you least expect it."

_**The End**_

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><p><em><strong>AN: If you have questions, or have anything to say in general, about this chapter or story please leave a review. Your last thoughts about this is very much appreciated and would really make me happy. Thanks guys :)**_


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